


Different Songs

by slof



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, How Do I Tag, M/M, Please I am so bad at tagging, Rarepair, Songfic, uhh idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25210327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slof/pseuds/slof
Summary: Hanamaki Takahiro falls in and out of love with one Matsukawa Issei.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Hanamaki Takahiro/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	Different Songs

**Author's Note:**

> I heard this and I was like, "Oh, yes. Perfect sad Matsuhana shit." And also https://open.spotify.com/track/1tXwzTSWCRXMMfwYdzo7ls?si=A57sPg_bSw6Ot0h8ckfaIw

When Takahiro had joined Seijoh, he didn’t expect himself to find a ‘best friend’. Usually, he had kept to himself when he was a kid, staying alone in the corner of his classes, possibly looking up things on his phone, chuckling to himself knowing he would be the only person who would find anything like the stupid memes he was looking at funny. So when he wanted to attend Seijoh for the boy’s volleyball team, he just expected to join and play, not fall in love.

Issei Matsukawa. He was in the same year as Takahiro was, a few of his classes as well. That was how they first met.

Takahiro was in the corner at his claimed desk, scrolling through a feed on his phone, laughing softly to himself a few times from something funny he’d look at. When he heard a deep laugh behind him, Takahiro felt his skin crawl. He sat up quickly in his desk, pointed his phone screen down, and turned to quickly look behind him.

There was a taller boy, his frame was definitely bigger than Takahiro’s. His dark brown, half-lidded eyes, really dark eyes, but they couldn’t draw Takahiro’s attention from how large his eyebrows were. 

“What?” Takahiro asked before he could stop himself. As someone who was short in his first year of high school, Takahiro was always lowkey intimidated by taller people. He had only been a hundred seventy-five centimeters in his first year. 

“Nothing,” the other one said, his voice still incredibly deep and smooth. He leaned back in his chair, a desk right behind Takahiro’s, and put his hands in his pockets. His head turned to look to the side out of the window like something you would see straight out of an anime. 

_ And he’s the main character _ . Takahiro shook his head quickly, as if  _ he _ was the anime character, shaking the thoughts quite literally out of his head. He turned back to face the front, hunched over his desk a little to protect himself and continued through his feed.

The next time he talked to Issei was when he learned his name. It was lunchtime, Takahiro was walking to the cafeteria, eyes staring down at his phone screen. He was too focused on the device, running straight into someone. 

Catching himself with his own staggering feet, Takahiro’s phone fell from his hands, though it never fell to the floor. The dark-haired boy stood in front of him, Takahiro’s treasure in one hand, the other hand grabbing ahold of Takahiro’s sleeve to help catch his fall.

Takahiro stared at him, slowly taking his phone from the other’s hand as he held it out.

“So,” Takahiro slowly said. “Thanks.”

“You should probably watch where you’re going.”

“I probably should.” Takahiro knew he should know his name, considering he saved him, his phone, and was in a few of his classes. “What’s my savior’s name?” He decided to ask.

“Matsukawa,” he spoke. “Matsukawa Issei.”

“Hanamaki Takahiro,” Takahiro said, holding out his hand, and Issei shook it. “Lunch?”

And Issei nodded.

When Takahiro had figured out Issei was  _ also _ joining the volleyball club, he felt a little flutter in his stomach. Issei seemed like a fever dream. He’d laugh at the stupid memes that Takahiro showed him at lunch--even during class after that--he played volleyball, he had this stupid aura to him that Takahiro couldn’t push past. There was something about Issei that just made Takahiro feel comfortable.

“Hey, Makki!” Snapping fingers in his face dragged him from his trance, and Takahiro blinked a few times, staring at the brunette in front of him. Oikawa Tooru, another idiot from his other classes, standing there with his childhood friend, Hajime Iwaizumi. The three had attended the same middle school together. Tooru probably considered them really close friends, that was only because he thought he knew a lot about Takahiro, which was far from the case. “Geez, what are you spacing out for?”

“No reason,” Takahiro muttered.

“Well, introduce us to your friend!” Tooru stood with his hands on his hips, Hajime standing next to him with his arms crossed. He seemed to disapprove of the way Tooru was asking him though, at the same time, he seemed curious to who Issei was.

“Matsukawa Issei,” Issei spoke for himself. “Just here to play volleyball.”

“You better not be a setter,” Tooru frowned, squinting at him. He received a slap on the back of the head from Hajime. “Ow, Iwa!”

“Nope,” Issei said with an amused smile. “Middle blocker. I’m guessing you’re setter.”

“The best. Got the best setter award in middle school, actually,” Tooru bragged. 

“More like best dumbass,” Hajime muttered.

“Iwa! Come on!” Tooru whined, and Hajime rolled his eyes, walking away. There came a huff from the other with the addition of a pout, and Takahiro wondered if he really was a first-year in high school--he acted like a first year in  _ middle school _ . He ran off to follow his childhood best friend.

“I get that you know him?” Issei asked once the other two had walked away.

Takahiro sighed. “Sadly.”

Getting along with Issei after that was like smooth sailing. They exchanged numbers, walked to school and home together, practiced volleyball together, worked on school work together. It was everything, and anything you could think of, they did together. 

By the time their first year was over, Takahiro knew that the way he felt about Issei was a lot more than just a friendship. 

It’s not like after that anything died down. Takahiro thought that when summer break came, he could’ve hidden from Issei a little, maybe let this slight crush for his best friend die down a little by isolating himself. It didn’t work, not by a long shot. The first text he got from Issei asking him if he wanted to come out, he accepted, because Takahiro thought,  _ ‘How could I say no to those ridiculous eyebrows?’ _

Following into their second year, it was even worse. The crush only developed even further, but it’s not like it had affected anything that he was doing. If anything, Issei was boosting Takahiro. He spoke up more in class and gained more confidence. Hell, Takahiro even gained the title ‘Class Clown’ from all the stupid shit he would end up doing or saying. 

“Hey, Matsu, Matsu, Matsu--”

“What?” Issei’s voice was stern, but Takahiro grinned upon hearing it because he knew he had Issei beat. Over the summer break from their first year into their second, Takahiro finally hit that growth spurt and his voice finally deepened. 

“Guess how tall I am?” Issei let his head hit his desk, and Takahiro felt himself grinning. He sat backward on the chair in front of Issei’s desk, resting an arm on the back of the chair, setting his chin on his arm as he poked Issei’s messy, dark brown curls. “Matsu, guess.” The middle blocker groaned, lifting his head up. Expression: unamused.

“How tall?” He asked dully.

“A hundred eighty.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And how tall did you say you were?”

Issei sighed.

“Matsu.”

“A hundred seventy-nine.” A grin stretched across Takahiro’s face. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“You look like Cheshire Cat.”

Takahiro sat up straight, furrowing his eyebrows at Issei. “I take that as a compliment. He’s a cool cat.”

“He’s lazy.”

“And I stand by that.” Despite being angry about Takahiro beating his current height, Issei smiled, chuckling with a scoff. The chuckle was deep, maybe deeper than Takahiro’s voice, and it was like a crackling fireplace, making Takahiro feel warm and too hot if he was too close.

And Takahiro was too close.

Halfway into their second year, Takahiro made the biggest mistake but the best choice he had ever made in his entire life. It was the something that had been brewing in his gut since their first year--that stupid crush on Issei.

They were walking home together as they usually did, the cold forcing them to keep their hands in their pockets. Sides brushed together, but at this point, neither of them cared about the slight contact. If anything, they welcomed it.

“Hey, Matsukawa,” Takahiro muttered quietly. “Do you like anyone?”

“Huh?” Issei glanced over at him, his lip curled a little more than usual, and he looked back to watch where he was walking. “Why do you ask?”

Takahiro shrugged. “Just curious, I guess. I never see you hang out with anyone else.”

“That’s cause I like hanging out with you.” Takahiro bit his lip, refusing to look over at Issei. Even though it was freezing outside, Takahiro knew he’d melt. “You asked if I had a crush on anyone?” Issei asked after a few seconds of silence. “Yeah, I do.” That’s when Takahiro looked over at him, and he found himself stopping in his tracks. Issei did as well, once he realized Takahiro had stopped walking.

“Who?” Takahiro asked, trying not to sound too hurt because  _ ‘dammit, Matsukawa has a crush on someone.’ _ And the last person he thought Issei would have a crush on would be him.

“You.”

Takahiro stared, and he stared saying nothing for too long.

“Forget I said anything,” Issei muttered after a few moments, the silence probably too painful for him, while for Takahiro, his entire world felt like it was spinning. He reached out and grabbed the middle blocker by the wrist, yanking him from walking away. His other hand reached to his cheek, his lips smashed into his/

It was a horrible kiss, both of their first kiss’. Teeth hit together, there was an awkward stare, _‘Do I close my eyes?’,_ _‘Where do I put my other hand?’_.

Though it didn’t matter to either of them how horrible it was because, well, it was them. It was just the two of them, standing in the cold, warming the other up with their touches, their breaths, the white mist in the air hitting together as they heavily breathed after their lips separated from the kiss.

“Does that give you your answer?” Issel asked, his voice low and slightly breathless.

“No. Try again. Wasn’t sure.”

Issei smiled, rolled his eyes, but he kissed him again. The second time was much better, though there was still work to be done.

For a few months, the two were able to keep their relationship on the down low. With both of them having an Oikawa Tooru included in their group of four, it wasn’t that easy. Tooru seemed to poke around and look into everything.

So when the two had to rush to school in the morning, both of them having slept in, Tooru noticed when they came in  _ each other’s  _ jackets.

“Makki?”

“Mhm?”

“Isn’t that Mattsun’s jacket?” Takahiro looked down at the jacket, turning the sleeves over and looking at it. He was wondering why it felt more spacious around the shoulders. 

“Uh, I think so.”

“Why are you wearing his jacket, Makki?” Tooru leaned closer. If only Hajime had been in that morning class with them, maybe he would’ve saved him from Tooru’s consistent questioning. “Makki.”

“Oikawa.”

“Makki, what situation could you have  _ possibly _ been in where you would have accidentally switched your jacket with Mattsun’s?”

“A situation where you mind your own business.”

“Quick, witty comebacks will not save you now, Makki.” 

Takahiro glared. “I beg to differ.”

“Then beg.” Takahiro almost spat in his face, and he ignored Tooru for the rest of the class period.

After the class had ended, Takahiro and Issei met up in an empty hallway between their next class to swap jackets. A curious Tooru decided to follow them and caught them sharing a ‘farewell, have fun in chemistry’ kiss.

“You!” Tooru squeaked, and Takahiro backed away from Issei. A sigh just came from the middle blocker, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Two! You guys! Both!?”

“English, Oikawa.”

“Kiss?!”

“We broke him,” Takahiro muttered to Issei who nodded in agreement.

“Together?”

Needless to say, Tooru wasn’t able to function for the rest of the day, and it even carried into practice until Hajime had literally beat it out of him.

Their third year was their best year. Everyone knew about them, they were both open about it since they thought,  _ ‘All we need is each other.’ _ At the time, it was true. Both of them didn’t even think they needed Hajime or Tooru. As long as they had each other, curled up on the couch, hot chocolates in the wintertime, watching TV, they were fine with that. 

They planned together their future, of course, they did. Takahiro was like that, rambling off about things when he got really into it, when it was just the two of them, and Issei loved it, listening to Takahiro’s deep voice--the voice that had gotten deeper than his by the beginning of their second year. Issei wouldn’t forget that time Takahiro was so proud of both that and his height--only to be later crushed by the middle blocker in height the following year.

The first time they said ‘I love you’ to each other was, of course, a time that neither of them would forget. 

“Do you wanna get a cat? Or a dog? Three of them?” Takahiro laid on his back on his bed, the blood rushing to his head as he leaned over the edge. Issei sat on the floor next to wing spiker, smiling as he looked down at him

“Three? Hiro, you can barely take care of yourself.”

“That’s rude. I’d never say anything remotely like that.”

“Didn’t you call my eyebrows ‘caterpillars’ yesterday and then ask when they were going to become butterflies?”

“I don’t recall,” Takahiro said, but the smiling stretching across his face said otherwise. He sat up on the bed and tackled Issei from behind, hanging over on his shoulders. The side of his face pressed against Issei’s and he grinned. “We should do something to annoy your sister again.”

“You’re not fake moaning again.”

“Why not?”

“Because the last time you did that, I had to prove that we didn’t do anything and that it was, in fact, you being an asshole.”

Takahiro laughed. “How’d you manage to do that?”

“I could prove I didn’t take a shower, and I wasn’t all sweaty.”

“Damn,” Takahiro muttered. “Next time I’ll chase you around then.” Issei rolled his eyes, but he smiled. He turned his head to the side, pressing his lips to Takahiro’s cheek. The pink haired boy hummed and smiled, relaxing into his boyfriend’s touch. 

“I love you,” Issei said quietly, and it had slipped out without him even realizing. He wouldn’t have realized if Takahiro’s eyes hadn’t shot open. They stared at each other for a few moments, Issei admiring the pink blush that filled the other’s face.

“I love you too,” Takahiro returned softly.

By the time they got into college, Takahiro had a feeling about something bad going to happen to them. They had to survive on discord calls and late-night texts since they didn’t attend the same colleges. Everything was through text or voice messages, no touches were real, just a simple text that read  _ ‘kiss’ _ but none of it was enough for them.

The distance was too much, it grew too much. Takahiro felt as they got further and further apart the longer the days had stretched on. He hugged his knees on his bed, staring down at his phone. It turned to the point where he wasn’t sure if he should text Issei first as if they were back in their first year when he was too afraid to ask him for an answer on a math problem.

“You  _ should _ text him, Hanamaki,” Takahiro’s college roommate told him one night as he watched him stare at his phone. “He’s your boyfriend.”

“I know that, Akaashi,” he muttered in response. He let his knees fall, and he sighed, running his fingers through his faded, pink hair. Of course, he knew that he needed to get it redone, but it only reminded him of the times Issei would do it for him. They’d get hair dye all over the bathroom, rush to clean it up before Takahiro’s mother came home and saw the pink stains all over the bathroom tiles and marble counters. 

“I’m sure he wants to talk to you too.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” Takahiro scratched the side of his face, and he picked up his phone, flipping it in circles as he tended to do when he got bored. “What if I annoy him?”

“You guys have been dating for--how long has it been?” Keiji pushed away from his desk, pulling his foot to sit on it and put his full attention to Takahiro. 

“Almost three years,” Takahiro mumbled.

“Listen,” Keiji began, “if Matsukawa found you annoying, he wouldn’t be  _ dating  _ you. I know I’m not one to be giving out relationship advice--”

“Just ask him out,” Takahiro interrupted.

“No, shut up, that’s not the point of what we’re talking about.” Takahiro rolled his eyes, and Keiji continued. “I’m saying you shouldn’t give up, even if you think you two are falling apart. College always breaks friendships from high school--”

“But--”

“But this isn’t a friendship,” Keiji cut off. “It’s stronger than that.”

Takahiro took a deep breath, sighed, and fell back on the bed, his phone falling on his chest with him. He lifted it up, shooting Issei a quick goodnight text before he could regret it. The phone buzzed back almost right away, a goodnight text back. Takahiro felt that feeling in his stomach as he did back in their first year, and suddenly, sleeping that night was a lot easier than it had been nights before.

That had only saved them for a week more, that was until Takahiro felt like Issei was pulling away again. It hurt him, it really did. Issei’s texts became more scarce, the late-night calls they had always planned were either canceled or full of nothing but them working without words being exchanged, only yawns and the sound of their pencils writing or keys on the laptop clapping.

Takahiro wanted to say something during those calls, but he didn’t know what to say most of the time. Part of him started to get scared to say anything as if Issei suddenly despised Takahiro. He felt like a small bird being surrounded by a large cat that was circling around him, intimidating him. 

That’s not how he should feel; they should be in this together.

“Issei?” Takahiro softly spoke up during one of their late-night calls. A deep hum came from the other. “You know that coffee shop outside your university?” Issei looked up from his notepad he was writing on and looked at Takahiro on the screen.

“Yeah, Hiro, of course, I do. Why?”

“Can we meet there? Right now? I’ll leave right now”

Issei raised an eyebrow. “It’s eleven PM?”

“Please.” Issei stared for a second before slowly nodding, and Takahiro slammed his laptop shut, grabbed his jacket, and rushed out the door.

Of course, Issei was there first. He only had to take one train to get there, Takahiro had to take three long ones. There was nothing when he saw him in person, maybe merely a slight spark, and he didn’t run up to him, instead slowly walked up to him.    
Takahiro stopped in front of him, looking down at the sidewalk. A crack separated the two, and Takahiro felt like that was a poor analogy the universe was giving them about their relationship. 

They stood in front of the closed coffee shop, a slight draft of wind, enough to make Takahiro shudder. The night sky was black, not a single star to be seen. It was like a bad romance movie. 

Takahiro wasn’t even sure what he planned on saying, not even in the beginning, not even on the ride there, he just knew that he needed to see him. He just knew that he needed to see him to know.

And when he saw him, he knew.

Takahiro felt his heart racing. “Issei,” he spoke quietly, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“Do what?” Issei’s expression changed, his eyebrows lifted, his lips slightly parted in surprise. 

“ _ Us _ .” Takahiro took a deep breath. His voice was shaking, he knew that. He knew his entire body was shaking.

“Hiro,” Issei grabbed Takahiro’s arm, and he pulled him to the side. It was down a small alley, kind of creepy, yet it still gave them privacy from the open road. Despite how late it was, a car or two would still drive by considering the busy city. “Hiro, what are you talking about?”

“Something changed.” Takahiro bit his lip, and he still refused to look at Issei. “I’m changing.  _ We’re _ changing. We’re not even on--” his breath hitched, “the same track anymore, Issei.”

“Hiro, come on. We knew this would be hard.” Issei reached his hand on Takahiro’s check, flicking away an incoming tear with his thumb. He moved closer, his lips getting dangerously close to Takahiro’s, but the wing spiker turned his head away, shutting his eyes as tight as he could while he bit his lip. “Takahiro,” Issei mumbled.

“I gotta go, Issei,” Takahiro whispered, pulling away from him, and it hurt so bad. After months of nothing, there was finally something, and he didn’t even want it. There was nothing there anymore. The flame went out, the track skipped, the road was filled with holes, and Takahiro didn’t think he could fix it. 

Keiji was up around six AM when Takahiro got back, and he was, of course, deathly worried about where he had been. Takahiro didn’t even explain to him, just collapsed in his arms, sobbing, apologizing for nothing.

The next few months were weird though Takahiro felt freer. It was sure something. He thought he would be depressed or something, but it was only slightly like that. Takahiro would see couples on campus and be reminded that he used to have someone that’d hold him like that, give him a kiss on the cheek, even if he didn’t ask for one, hold his hand if he noticed he wanted to--just have someone there to read his mind.

That was all he felt though, in the aftermath of one Matsukawa Issei, someone he had been in love with for three years. Why was it so easy for him? Had he been playing a _ different song _ for that long?

Keiji would be with him more than usual since then. He tried to get him to go to more places, meet and talk to more people. Normally, Keiji wasn’t the type of person for parties, but he went to one and dragged Takahiro along just to bring him to meet new people. 

It worked too, Takahiro, a little tipsy, hanging out with new people from around his college that had heard about the party. There were a few people he talked to, but there was one person that really made Takahiro laugh, give him a faint warm feeling, something that even slightly reminded him of the feeling he used to get from Issei at one point, but it didn’t remind him of Issei, merely the feelings from him.

The guy was a bleached blonde, which bleached hair was something that Takahiro knew very well, with an accent thicker than all hell. His laugh was light and reminded Takahiro of a smooth, low flute--if something like that even existed. They ended up slipping away from the party, heading out to talk on the back porch of whoever’s house the party was crashed at.

“So when can I help ya dye yer hair again?” The guy reached over, twirling his finger around a strand of Takahiro’s hair. 

“Atsumu, I didn’t know you were a hairdresser,” Takahiro said with a smug expression, setting his hands on the railing and boosting himself to sit.

“‘M many things.”

“Really?” Takahiro raised an eyebrow, kicking his feet a little like a child. He felt freer, a lot freer. “Like what?”

“Therapist.” Atsumu walked over, leaning on the railing next to Takahiro. “Ya seem like there’s somethin’ weighin’ on ya.” Takahiro chuckled and let his head fall. He stared down at his feet as his legs swung and sighed.

“Yeah. I, well,” Takahiro scratched his wrist, “I broke up with my boyfriend a few months ago.”

“Sorry,” Atsumu mumbled. “Didn’t mean to step onto any ground I wasn’t ‘posed to.”

Takahiro shook his head, lifting it with a small smile. “No, you’re fine.” He glanced over at Atsumu. “We just--we weren’t in sync anymore, you know?”

“Like ya were playin’ on  _ different songs _ ?”

“Yeah,” Takahiro nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good way of putting it.”

“Then do ya mind if I join ya on the album yer on?” Takahiro laughed, and he nodded, reaching to Atsumu.

He kissed him before and could find himself regretting it. It was nothing like his first kiss with Issei. No bunking teeth or fumbling, confused hands. They knew what they were doing, especially when Atsumu’s hands rested on Takahiro’s thighs.

And maybe that was the problem. Issei was Takahiro’s first love. Maybe they were never really meant to be, and maybe everything was meant to be just an experiment. 

Maybe the track was always meant to skip.

* * *

God knows why Issei was at the same party Takahiro was at. He shouldn’t even have been on that side of Japan. Issei should’ve been at his own university, in his own dorm room, working on his own work. Though there was something that always brought him to ride the train to the side of Japan that Takahiro was on and stay there until he had to go back. 

A friend who Issei knew told him about the party, so he attended, not knowing Takahiro would be there when he arrived. 

He had done a good job dodging Takahiro at the party, and he was pretty sure he didn’t even know he was there. Issei couldn’t help but watch him from afar as if he still needed to keep an eye out for him. So when Takahiro was slipping out with the blonde twin at the party, Issei followed. 

He felt creepy, hell yeah, it was creepy. Here he was, watching his EX flirt with another guy at a party, but Issei couldn’t help himself. He still loved Takahiro--he was still  _ madly _ in love with Takahiro. Nothing about him agreed with the way that they parted, a failed kiss and a rushed, tear-filled  _ ‘I gotta go’ _ in the tone of voice Issei hated to hear. He watched Takahiro walk away before he slumped against that alley wall. 

Actually, he had passed out there. Tooru had found him in the morning, said he tracked his phone, had been calling and looking for him all morning. It made Issei wonder if everything was a dream if he had drunk too much and gone out. Though when he stared at Takahiro’s number to call him, he knew it was real. That pain was  _ real _ .

He texted him. Of course, he did, but Issei either got left on read or was given short, uninterested responses. He never meant to pull away from Takahiro. It hurt. Everything about it hurt.

Though it didn’t hurt as much when he watched Takahiro kiss the stranger at the party. 

His breath skipped, and he backed away. He waved goodbye to his friends at the party without another word and left for his car. 

Issei stared at the wheel in front of him. He heard the blonde say, ‘Different songs.’ Well, in that case, hadn’t they always had the same taste in music? 

_ ‘What changed?’ _

Issei let his head hit the steering wheel.

_ ‘When had we forgotten how to sing along together?’ _

And a single, warm tear rolled down his cheek, falling and staining his jeans.

_ ‘Can’t sing along together.’ _

**Author's Note:**

> I will die for the rarepair Atsuhana


End file.
